With restrictions lifting on indoor activities in early 2021, and fresh off a move from New York City to Seattle’s Eastside, I picked up a membership at a local CrossFit gym, never having done any functional fitness, and started riding my bike to the 4:30pm class. After a few months of honing my skills, I signed up for a local partner competition in Woodinville. Little did I know I’d be seeing my future wife for the first time. Fast forward to competition day: everything was going smoothly through two events. While game planning with my teammate, I noticed a stir nearby as a young woman attempted to deadlift over 300lbs. As she stood up with the bar, got the good rep signal, and dropped it in celebration, I caught a glimpse of her radiant smile and suddenly lost all interest in the competition. Afterward, I hoped to introduce myself, but I couldn’t find her in the crowd. I headed home, happy with my performance but thinking about her. Around this time, I was starting fresh: a new job, my own place, and finally, a car. With new wheels, I could explore more—and join a new gym. Since I was settling into life in the Pacific Northwest, I also decided to try a dating app. Maybe it was luck, maybe fate, but just a few days later, I came across the woman from the competition. I had never gone on a date through an app before, but I sent her a message. Her name was Kaija, and we hit it off! I eventually learned she belonged to the gym I’d been eyeing, and we made plans to meet on a Monday evening for drinks at a cocktail bar. A few hours before our date, I scheduled a tour at Invictus.

I coach CrossFit for a couple hours every Monday after work, but that day I definitely spent a little extra time trying to look cute. While warming up the class, in walked the boy from Hinge: sweatpants, Birkenstocks, and socks. I think I played it cool until our gym manager, Justin, introduced us. As Jacob walked away, I said, “See you in a couple of hours!” After coaching, I walked down to the marina to meet Hinge boy for drinks. You know, because we’re always going out for cocktails. But it seemed like a chic, cool thing to do for a first date. When I arrived at the bar, Jacob was waiting—and he definitely cleaned up well. I don’t remember what drinks we ordered, just that we had one each, left unfinished, but we talked for nearly two hours. I’d never had so much in common with someone on a date: we both grew up on the Eastside of Seattle, had one sibling, came from mixed-religion households with one Jewish parent, loved dogs, went to college on the East Coast—the list went on. It felt like talking to an old friend instead of the usual first-date interview vibe. We also shared the deeper stuff: political views, thoughts on religion, short- and long-term goals. It sounds like a lot for a first date, but nothing ever felt forced or awkward. I think I was so instantly smitten that I wanted to cover the “taboo” topics early, just in case something didn’t match, but it all did. After realizing we’d overstayed our one-drink welcome, Jacob walked me up the street to my condo and asked if he could see me again. I loved that he didn’t try to play it cool or wait to text me later. We went on our second and third dates within the week, and the rest is history.